Page 243 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Dee!” Natasha said. I couldn’t see her face, but she sounded pleased. “Sorry, I was just finishing up some orientation things.”

Dee waved her off. “Leave that for now. You must join us for lunch,” she insisted. “I want to hear all about how your first day is going.”

Ah, I thought. So, this was why Nana Dee had come all the way out here. She wanted to check up on Natasha and me.

“Oh, no,” Natasha said. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Impose?” Dee said. “How would you be imposing?”

I stepped into view. Natasha’s eyes met mine over Dee’s head. She gave me a look that said, Help me. I just smirked at the way her expression turned from hopeful to annoyed when she realized I wasn’t going to intervene.

“You wouldn’t say no to an old woman dragging an oxygen tank around with her?” Dee said.

Wow, way to milk it, I thought.

“Um…no, I—” Natasha’s brow arched.

“I’m only joking,” Dee said. “But not about you coming to lunch.”

I could tell Natasha was looking for me to come up with an excuse that would allow her to remain at her desk. But I didn’t give one. Natasha had agreed to this fake relationship for Dee’s sake, and I wasn’t about to let her squirm out of it. If it was uncomfortable for her, too bad. My priority was to keep that smile on Dee’s face, even if it meant sitting through a hundred uncomfortable meals with Natasha.

Natasha closed her laptop, accepting that there was no way to gracefully decline. “Where are we going?” she asked.

Dee clapped her hands. “Just down the street to Gallery 45.”

Natasha’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Isn’t that one of the restaurants inside the Glenhaven Club?” She looked down at herself. “I don’t think I’m dressed nearly nice enough for that, Dee.”

“Nonsense. You look just fine, dear.” She linked arms with Natasha and guided her back toward the elevator. I followed them, trailing along as they chattered all the way to the club. It let me keep an eye on Dee to make sure she stayed steady on her feet…and I could admire the view of Natasha’s backside. When we reached the Glenhaven Club, the hostess smiled at us as we came through the door. “We have a visitor with us today,” Dee announced, happily, and led the way to the elevator.

When we reached Gallery 45, I waved to the girl behind the bar. She’d been serving us for years. We took our regular table by the window. The space doubled as an art gallery, and the pieces displayed on the walls switched out frequently. Dee had bought more than one piece from here over the years.

“This place is amazing,” Natasha said, looking around.

“I’ve had my eye on that one,” Dee said of a large mixed media piece in golds and greys.

“I would love to design some of your pieces around that concept,” Natasha said. “Keep me posted if you do purchase it.”

The waitress came by with menus and a jug of water. Dee and I always shared a few dishes, so I ordered the usuals, adding extras to accommodate for Natasha. I half expected her to snap at me for ordering for her, but she was surprisingly gracious about it. Maybe she was willing to accept that at least when it came to this restaurant, I knew better than she did. Dee ordered an Earl Grey tea while Natasha and I had our second coffees of the day.

“So tell me,” Dee said, “How are things going so far? How are you liking the office?”

“Good,” Natasha said. “It’s been excellent so far.”

Dee gestured in my direction. “You don’t have to say that just because of the present company.”

I huffed, and Dee patted my arm.

Natasha chuckled politely. “No, really. Things are going well. Everyone’s been lovely. No HR hiccups. I couldn’t have asked for a better first day.”

Dee squeezed her hand. “That’s what I like to hear. Trent’s lucky he stumbled upon someone as capable as she is talented.”

Natasha blushed, her cheeks turning as red as the cherry tablecloth. She tipped her head, her dark curls shading her cheeks. I couldn’t stop myself from noticing how well the color suited her. My fingers itched to touch her skin.

“Dee, is that you?” A woman came across the restaurant, her greying hair pinned back, the bracelets on her arms jangling.

“Sheila!” Dee greeted. “I must have just missed you when I stopped by the office.”

Sheila was the head of marketing. Like half the building, she and Dee were old friends. Sheila had been a bright up-and-comer while Dee was in her last years of running the company, and they’d maintained a close mentee-mentor relationship since then. Sheila leaned over, giving Dee a quick hug.